


striking vipers

by seochangbin



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: ?????, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fist Fights, Infidelity, Internalised Homophobia, M/M, Porn With Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virtual Reality, but also minho fucks his irl partner, confusing use of pronouns, heavily based off of black mirror s5e1, minho plays a girl character in game, they DO NOT fall in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seochangbin/pseuds/seochangbin
Summary: “Oh yeah,” Jisung says, as if remembering something finally. He pulls a box out from his back pocket. “I got you a gift.”Minho looks up at him quizzically but still takes the box from him graciously with two hands. “I haven’t seen you in, what, years? I had to get you something.” Jisung scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “Open it.”Minho does. It’s a thin plastic box, a gaudy cliche fighting game cover. It reads Striking Vipers X on the front. Two ripped fighters are on the front, reds and yellows and oranges painting the space behind them, one’s leg meeting the other’s arm in a block. It’s frighteningly familiar, the graphics now refined and characters drawn more in detail. Minho turns it around in his hand, skimming over the text on the back, amazed at how the game from his past is somehow in his hand.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70





	striking vipers

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!! im really excited to finally post this fic!! i was inspired to write this based off of the black mirror episode "striking vipers"! you don't have to watch that for this to make sense (hopefully)! 
> 
> this is my first time writing smut for minsung i think... oops sorry
> 
> this is a heads-up for most of the in-game sex scenes:  
> \- the mix-and-match-ed pronouns ARE intentional!! theyre to emphasise minho's confusion/inability to discern himself from his character and the pleasure he experiences
> 
> \- both of them do essentially cheat on their partners while fucking in-game. i do not condone this at all BUT exploring it through this fic is to discuss whether fucking in VR counts as cheating or not (to me, it does.)

“Happy birthday, man,” Jisung grins at him. He looks the same as he did all those years ago. His smile, his laugh, his whiny voice are all the same, just that the wrinkles around his eyes and his laugh lines are becoming a little more prominent now. 

Minho smiles at him, a small, cordial one. “Thanks for coming.” Minho says, extending his hand to welcome Jisung. 

“What the hell? Bring it in,” Jisung cackles, tackling Minho in a hug instead. Minho accepts it warmly.

He remembers when they were fresh out of university, the way Jisung would tackle him on the couch, shoving a controller into his hands as he booted up  _ Striking Vipers _ . Despite Minho’s complaints about all his unfinished work, they both gravitated toward their usual characters, the booming narration echoing in their tiny living room over tinny speakers. He hears Sohee’s pretty laugh, ringing like bells as she had retreated into their bedroom, rolling her eyes as Minho and Jisung started up a match. 

It had been eleven years since then, when life was a little simpler. Minho had married Sohee while Jisung continued drifting from partner to partner, never really being able to settle down. Minho and Jisung hadn’t spoken much, life simply taking them in different directions. Minho was now focused on work, making a name for himself in the company, and a family with Sohee. He wasn’t sure what Jisung was doing.

Turning thirty-five was a big deal to Sohee, Minho isn’t sure why, but she had rung friends up from all over and invited them over to their new place, in a hybrid housewarming-birthday celebration. Sohee had egged him on, telling him to invite all their friends from uni, Jisung included. 

Now here they are. Jisung standing in front of him, in his platform shoes as always, so he stands a little taller than Minho. The sight of him is warm and familiar, and Minho wonders why they haven’t met in so long. 

“Thirty-five now, huh? You’re really getting old,” Jisung says after too long of silence, laughing as Minho shoves him back playfully.

“Watch it. You’re on thin ice already, and you’ve barely gotten here,” Minho chuckles, reaching down to the mini-fridge to grab a couple of beers for them. He cracks them open, then hands one to Jisung. They both take cursory sips, and Minho starts the introduction Sohee had drilled into his mind for when people he wasn’t too familiar with wanted to be shown around. Feeling somewhat comfortable around Jisung still with all their years of familiarity, he glances down at the large expanse of the backyard as they stand on the porch. Jisung stands too close to him, and he can feel the heat radiating off him. 

He looks straight ahead to the swing set he’d set up. There are kids are playing around and on it, and a couple of adults make sure no one gets seriously hurt. First, he points to a young girl in pigtails and a pink dress, running after another girl. “That’s my girl, Hyemin. She’s five, I think,” Minho says, watching her run across the porch. 

Jisung laughs at the way Hyemin skips across the grass with intent, making considerable progress. “She’s cute. Takes after you,” He comments. 

A woman, in a flowy yellow sundress turns, noticing Minho from the porch. She waves, and Minho waves back out of courtesy. “That’s Siyeon,” Minho says nonchalantly. “She’s one of Sohee’s friends, I think. And her husband. I’ve already forgotten his name, though.” 

Jisung chuckles at Minho’s indifference, as a tanned man turns to wave at them too. Minho notices the way Siyeon leans over to address one of the many children, probably her own. He’s forgotten the kid’s name too, but he tries to avoid eye contact with Siyeon, eyes helplessly drawn to the curve of Siyeon’s breasts, disappearing into the low neckline of the dress. 

Jisung’s staring at him. Minho coughs, bringing him inside instead. He takes a seat at their kitchen island, struggling to sit comfortably on one of the bar stools. Jisung points it out curiously. He always was curious, and Minho guesses that it never really went away. 

“Injured my leg a couple of years back. Never really healed,” Minho shrugs, but Jisung nods in understanding.

Miraculously, their kitchen area is empty, guests heading outside as they get drawn to the cool spring weather. “Oh yeah,” Jisung says, as if remembering something finally. He pulls a box out from his back pocket. “I got you a gift.”

Minho looks up at him quizzically but still takes the box from him graciously with two hands. “I haven’t seen you in, what, years? I had to get you something.” Jisung scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “Open it.”

Minho does. It’s a thin plastic box, a gaudy cliche fighting game cover. It reads  _ Striking Vipers X  _ on the front. Two ripped fighters are on the front, reds and yellows and oranges painting the space behind them, one’s leg meeting the other’s arm in a block. It’s frighteningly familiar, the graphics now refined and characters drawn more in detail. Minho turns it around in his hand, skimming over the text on the back, amazed at how the game from his past is somehow in his hand. 

Laughing to himself, Minho looks up at Jisung. “It’s new, some VR type shit. Apparently it’s still really fun. It reminded me of when we used to play, back in the old days.”

“VR? I’d have to get the headset, and my eyes aren’t good enough for that anymore,” Minho explains, pushing up his glasses from dramatic effect.

“No headset needed! Look inside,” Jisung says cheerfully, prompting Minho to remove the game box after clawing at it for a bit.

_ TCKR INDUSTRIES  _ is emblazoned on the bottom of the cardboard holder in silver print, under a small disc-shaped device. Minho furrows his eyebrows. 

“You put it on,” Jisung explains, tapping at his temple. “And it just transports you into this world. It’s really immersive, and the game runs really smoothly. You get to be the characters in-game.”

Minho nods slowly, trying to put all this information together. If Jisung likes it, it must be good, right?

“Jisung!” Sohee’s high voice calls out now. She pulls Jisung into a hug, having just entered the room from entertaining guests outside. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”

Jisung laughs. “Well, you know, I’ve been around doing whatever.”

Sohee eyes the box in Minho’s hand suspiciously. “It’s a gaming set… thing. Jisung got it for me,” Minho smiles up at Sohee. Her face softens, smiling at the both of them. 

“I’m glad you two are getting along well, then,” She says, hands clasped together. “But Minho dear, don’t hide inside anymore, okay? People are asking around for you.”

Minho nods. Sohee, pleased with his answer, rushes back out quickly. “Women, am I right?” Minho jokes, and Jisung laughs along. “Have you… been seeing anyone?”

Jisung seems to startle at the question, but nods as he gets his phone out. Seemingly pondering with his thumb over the screen, he finally picks one and shows Minho. “Hot, right?” Jisung grins. 

Minho didn’t expect this, for some reason, even though Jisung’s always been the more charismatic one between them, drifting between girlfriends and boyfriends all too quickly. The girl Jisung pulls up on his phone is undeniably beautiful, eyes wide and long black hair down to her waist, her skintight dress leaving nothing to the imagination. She’s facing away from the camera, but turns back to look at it with a dazzling grin. Her tan legs are exposed, the red dress barely covering her thighs. Minho looks back up at Jisung before he can scrutinise the woman’s choice of clothing (or lack thereof) further, and nods. 

“I’ve been seeing her for about, three months? She’s a lot younger though. Eight years.”

Minho’s eyes almost shoot out of his head, unable to keep his composure. “Jesus.”

“It’s fine,” Jisung shrugs, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “It’s just casual. And she’s real sweet.”

Minho wonders what part of her Jisung’s referring to.

  
  


Once the birthday song’s been sung, and “Happy 35th Birthday Minho!” written in slanted cursive on the rectangular vanilla cake all gone, people start filtering out of the house. It’s not a large crowd per se, but all the social interaction has really worn him out. Sohee can’t seem to understand that he would’ve wanted to spend his birthday with just her and her alone, but whatever makes Sohee happy, he supposes. 

He helps her clean up, irresponsible relatives having left napkins, red solo cups and the occasional paper plate all over their patio. They both shower, falling into bed with tired, aching limbs. While Sohee drifts off to sleep quickly, breaths evening out in a quiet snore, Minho can’t seem to fall asleep no matter how hard he closes his eyes or counts an endless number of sheep.

Minho gets up and out of bed, trying not to shift the bed too much, and wanders outside instead. He goes to get a drink of water, mindlessly walking around their living room as he wills himself to go to sleep. Maybe a game will tire him out.

He starts the console up, with the soft familiar jingle, pulling up a game of Tetris. He settles back into the comfortable couch, the clacking of the joysticks soothing as the blocks fall into place, drifting down the screen. A loud ping comes from the screen, startling Minho into misplacing his block. He curses under his breath, but glances up to see a notification:  _ Han Jisung is playing _ Striking Vipers.

The sound was a little loud, and Minho worries about waking Sohee up. Minho wants to ignore the notification, but another comes in, this time with a message: “ _ i see u online come play with me _ ”. 

Minho rolls his eyes, but his eyes inevitably drift to the inconspicuous black box left on the tabletop, the one from Jisung. The  _ Striking Vipers _ box lays next to it, taunting him with its gaudy cover, seemingly calling his name. 

_ Damn you, Jisung. _ Minho gets up to put the cartridge in. He holds the black box in his hand, staring down at the little beady disc. It stares up at him, black plastic reflecting the light off the TV screen. 

He picks it up and out of the box. He examines it between his fingers, seemingly nothing sticking out of it dangerously. He wonders how it will stick, but he shrugs and lifts it up to his temple.  _ Fine _ , he thinks.  _ I’ll join you. _ He presses it into his skin. 

Minho gasps, feeling a jolt of electricity run through his veins. He doesn’t feel like he’s in his own body, staring up at the character select screen instead. 

“Hey, welcome!” Jisung’s voice booms from nowhere in particular, and Minho jolts. “Choose a character, and I can invite you into my game. You could’ve accepted my invitation, but you never seem to do anything the easy way, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Minho retorts, falling back into easy banter with Jisung. His eyes scan the huge screen, craning his neck to see it. He selects one of the pretty female characters, Meihua, donned with cat-eye winged liner, pretty pink lips and in an outfit that both shows off her curves and seems to be fitting for a fight. He’d always picked Meihua when him and Jisung used to play, because Jisung said she kind of looked like him. Instead of the pixellated character sprite on their small TV from back then, her features were so much for intricately detailed now, her animation cycle smooth and graceful, and Minho could truly say that she was pretty, and that their similarities were almost uncanny. 

Then, Minho’s transported into the stage with another jolt. The stage is almost ethereal, painfully blue skies, and a seemingly Chinese-inspired stage. The stone floor is solid under his feet as he stamps on it to test the waters, realising that his injured leg no longer hurts. He’s in Meihua’s outfit, the light material of her dress on her skin, tights to cover up everything else. Everything is skin-tight, accentuating her- his? curves, and he jumps around. Her hair is shoulder-length, swishing around her neck, comfortable with the soft breeze coming from… somewhere. It’s agile, freeing, without the weight of an injured leg holding him back, eyesight a perfect 20/20. Minho feels a grin growing on his face, laughing gleefully as he hops around.

“Having fun?” Jisung’s voice comes from behind him, and he turns around in shock, arms raised in a fighting stance. It’s odd hearing Jisung’s voice coming from the character he had chosen, Yeohwan, chiseled jaw and bulging muscles galore, straining out of his outfit, loosely based off of a gi, sleeves ripped off stylishly.

Then, Jisung’s foot is in his face, the force of the two meeting sends him flying back. He tumbles on the hard stone floor, slumped over in shock as he realises nothing’s bleeding, the pain in his face dull and fading quickly, before it disappears completely as if it were never there. “You’re so rude, Hannie. Fighting with a girl?” He taunts, regaining his footing as he confronts Jisung, running across the stage to come face-to-face with him. “At least let me have a shot first, hm?”

His voice is sugar-sweet, realising it’s morphed into a higher, more feminine tone, as he lands one, two punches onto Jisung, hitting him square in the jaw. He watches as Jisung flies off the screen, his limp body moving in a perfect arc before he falls to the ground. 

“I don’t think that’s fair,” Jisung says, his voice growing into a low growl as he clambers back up. Jisung comes back to him, both of them moving uncharacteristically poised. They move in circles, both awaiting the other’s next attack. 

Then, Jisung strikes, but Minho moves quicker, dodging and grabbing Jisung’s arm in the air with a smug grin. Leveraging off of Jisung’s weight and Minho’s newfound strength, he easily flips him over and smashes him onto the hard ground, Jisung groaning at the impact. 

“Fuck you!” Minho cackles, but is cut off with a shout as Jisung kicks at his feet, tripping him over. He falls, barely catching himself with his arms instead of faceplanting directly into Jisung. They both pant heavily, grinning cheekily at each other. 

Minho doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leans down to kiss Jisung. It’s electrifying, feeling Jisung’s lips against his. Technically, Meihua’s against Yeohwan’s, but Minho can’t tell the difference anymore. He doesn’t think he cares. 

Yeohwan’s rough hands hold onto her face gently, kissing eagerly, desperately, needily. He swallows her up, feeling like they’re fusing together almost, and Minho melts in Jisung’s hold. The way Jisung holds him and kisses him with such lustful passion makes him a little wet. 

Minho gasps, pulling away from Jisung in horror. He pulls open the waistband of his tights, noticing the lack of a dick down  _ there _ with wide, unbelieving eyes. Then, he’s hit by the realisation that he’d just kissed his best friend, and clearly liked it. 

“What the fuck,” Minho mutters in disbelief, shaking his head frantically, eyes flitting between Yeohwan’s confused state, and her own hands. 

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Jisung asks, in such Jisung fashion, and it’s painfully clear that it’s him. His best friend. 

“What do you mean  _ what’s wrong _ ?” Minho roars, confused and infuriated and frustrated. “I just kissed you!”

“And?” Jisung shrugs, way too nonchalant for Minho’s liking. “It’s just a game, Minho.” 

“No, it’s not! I know it’s you, Jisung! We can’t do this. No, I won’t allow it,” Minho cries, voice harsh and icy-cold, breaking a little when he’s particularly riled up. He seems to be trying to convince himself, almost.

“Min, wait,” Jisung tries to soothe the angry man, but Minho’s already logged out, blipping out of the virtual space.

Minho gasps when he returns to reality, returns to his wiry body. The pain in his leg has returned, and he now has a headache too. Minho rips the disc off his temple, glares at the offending object and tosses it into the box hastily. Fuck. 

The hardness in his sweats is almost too obvious, and he clenches his fist tight, before pulling at his hair in exasperation. His eyes flit up to the hallway, relaxing when he notes that their bedroom light hasn’t been flipped on. He groans, standing up and making his way down the hall after he turns all the devices off. He shifts his weight on his feet outside the bathroom, ultimately deciding to retreat to their bedroom. He’s a grown man, not a teenager. He can sleep it off. 

+

His life seems to drone on after that night. Work is boring, as hard as he tries to do everything well and even sucks up a little to his bosses. It nags at the back of his mind; his virtual infidelity. Does it count if they didn’t do anything but kiss? Why does he feel so scandalous, when it was just Jisung? 

Minho’s efforts at work are ultimately unfruitful, and returning home isn’t particularly interesting either. Sohee usually makes them dinner or orders something that Minho doesn’t particularly like, then he takes a shower and joins Sohee in bed.

Tonight, Sohee murmurs something about how they should have sex tonight, because they should be trying for a baby and now is the best time for it. Something about ovulation and fertile windows, Minho doesn’t know. He’s never paid much attention in Biology class. 

Minho doesn’t think he can get it up at all, but it’s not Sohee’s fault. She’s dressed cutely, wearing a loose t-shirt and short cotton shorts, one that both hides and accentuates her petite figure. It makes her look extremely innocent, innocent enough for Minho to take her apart. It would be fun to fuck her tonight, but he’s just too tired. 

Their days of fucking for days on end were long gone, when they were both young and spry. They’re both way past their prime, having lost traction with steamy, passionate sex. Now, it just seems like a drag, and he can’t really appreciate Sohee anymore. Sure, he loves her, but…

He doesn’t know what his excuse is either. 

Sohee clambers into his lap, the small woman light in his hold, teasing and kissing down Minho’s neck. Her small hands move with feather-light touches down his chest, toying with the hem of the shirt he had tugged on after his shower just moments ago. His mind struggles, a tug-of-war between being a good husband by making Sohee feel good, or taking care of himself and letting her down. 

Making sure not to sigh outwardly, Minho lets his hands drift to Sohee’s small waist, lets her work him up to hardness as she grinds down into his crotch. Minho lets her trap his mouth in a kiss, doing his best to show interest. He tries his best as he cages Sohee in with his arms as Sohee pulls her shorts off, pushes her panties aside and lets Minho fuck her. 

Minho doesn’t let his confusion show as Sohee whines and moans pleasurably, as his cock slides in and out of her shallowly, lazily, sloppily, easily chasing his orgasm with her tight wetness. Sohee clings onto him weakly, arms thrown around his shoulders, burying her face into his neck as she comes, moaning weakly. He hurries a little, filling Sohee up with a few final thrusts. 

He cleans her and himself up, Sohee quickly falling asleep soon after. Again, Minho can’t seem to sleep despite his exhaustion. He gets up out of bed, wandering back out into the living room, hopelessly drawn to the TV. His mind burns with the thought of what he had done with Jisung. He feels bad, but sits down on the couch and starts everything up. He gets the notification that Jisung’s online, playing  _ Striking Vipers _ again. 

He clicks on the notification despite the protest from his brain, his hand seemingly having a mind of its own. He grasps the little disc, and plants it on his temple again. 

He’s drawn back into the virtual world, this time in a dark alleyway, face to face with Yeohwan -- Jisung. 

“Minnie,” Jisung calls, his voice mixing with Yeohwan’s lower rumble to form a steady tenor. “You’re here.”

Jisung sounds uncertain, scared. It’s unlike the confidence that borders on cockiness Jisung usually has. Minho’s heart breaks a little, knowing that his freak-out from the last time they were here had caused it. 

Taking a deep breath, Minho steps into the atmospheric purple light, under the incessant buzz of neon signs. The material of Meihua’s outfit is shorter now, ripped at his upper thighs, coupled with thigh-highs and heeled boots. It’s safe to say he looks sexy, and Minho feels it. He draws closer to Yeohwan. “Jisung,” Minho calls out, voice sweet and cloying amidst the steady clack of his heels. “I missed you, baby.”

He doesn’t know where the surge of confidence came from, but the lust and desperation that stirs in his gut gives him some idea. Yeohwan’s eyes darken considerably, eyeing Meihua’s slender figure, her heavy breasts, the curve of her waist widening into her hips. “You missed me?” Yeohwan echoes, and then Meihua tackles him to the floor.

She grinds down into Yeohwan’s crotch, feeling him harden under her own heat, and she giggles. “Yes, baby,” Minho sighs, feeling the hard muscle underneath Jisung’s clothes. “I can’t wait to get you inside of me.”

Jisung gurgles. “But what about-”

“I need you, Hannie,” Meihua moans. “Fuck me already.”

Yeohwan’s at a loss for words as Meihua nips at his neck, Jisung letting his head loll back with the sudden onset of pleasure. Minho’s sopping wet now, worked up and desperate, and he’s pretty sure Jisung feels it through his gi, now a stunning red. 

“Minnie, are you sure-?” Yeohwan stutters. Jisung’s eyes flit between her face, and further down, greedily taking in the sight of Minho all over him. 

“Yes, please,” She croons sweetly by his ear. Even Minho can hear how his voice has bled into Meihua’s, sensual and sultry and teasing. “I need you so bad.”

“Fuck,” Jisung growls. He maneuvers them so Minho is on his back. She wraps her legs loosely around Jisung’s waist, letting Yeohwan kiss her roughly and tug at the slit of her outfit till her breasts spill out the front. Minho shoves a hand down her pants, feeling around briefly for the little nub he’s vaguely acquainted with, from years with Sohee.

Sohee. 

“Minho,” Jisung calls. “Don’t think about anyone but me right now, okay?” 

It’s shocking how Jisung seems to be able to read his mind but he relaxes against the asphalt, rough against his back. Minho continues the motions, rubbing at her clit with small circles. He jerks with almost exorcism-like shocks, unused to such concentrated pleasure at his fingertips. “Oh, fuck,” Meihua cries. “Jisung, please. Fuck me.”

Jisung’s rough fingers tug down Meihua’s bottoms, Minho a little shocked that she only has underwear on. Yeohwan grins cockily at him, teasing her by holding up her soaked-through panties. “Needy.” 

“Shut up,” Minho retorts in an airy laugh, slender fingers working at her clit, scissoring around her folds, dipping into her wetness. She sighs, fingers sliding in and out of her, obscene and wet-sounding. The feeling is so new, but Minho is appalled that he knows exactly how to crook his fingers to make himself squirm. The pleasure is so different, no longer on the outside but seemingly coming from  _ deep inside _ him. Minho feels like he might go crazy. “Come on, Hannie. I need you.”

Jisung is busy kissing Meihua’s thighs, sucking deep purple marks into the milky skin. “You’re so beautiful, Minho, you know that?” Yeohwan groans. Minho flushes deeply. He can’t help feeling guilty at hearing Jisung’s words, but she spreads her legs further. 

Meihua grips Yeohwan’s hair tight, pulls him up to look her in the eye when he’s done with planting a final mark on her. “Fuck me already, Han Jisung.”

Jisung ducks forward to trap his lips with his, letting Meihua’s hands make quick work of his gi as his own play with Meihua’s breasts, squeezing fondly with his large, rough hands. Yeohwan’s cock bobs up comically, and Minho wraps his hand around it, stroking firmly, intently, confidently. 

Jisung lets Minho wrap his legs around him, pulling Yeohwan in closer, Meihua lining his cock up with her entrance. She leaks even more as she feels Jisung’s cock prodding at her, hesitating to sink into her. Minho pushes Jisung’s hips forward with his heels. 

Eyes fluttering shut and tilting her head back, Meihua gasps as Jisung sinks his cock into her, the slow drag of his cock against her walls. Minho clings onto Yeohwan, sighing as he begins to rock his hips in and out of him. Jisung makes sure to treat him with care, going slow as Minho requests. The pleasure that blooms from inside of him is so new to Minho, feeling the way Jisung fucks him and hits all the right spots.

“Jisung-!” Minho squeals, feeling his fingers rub at her clit now in small, insistent strokes, all while he thrusts in and out of her. The sound is pleasant to their ears, mixed in with Jisung’s grunts and Minho’s quiet mewls. 

Jisung’s eager, hips slap against Minho’s ass as he moves more quickly, beginning to chase after his own pleasure as well. Minho clenches around him tighter, wanting to hear Jisung moan, making him grin to himself. He wonders how Jisung is so good with his fingers, and how he knows just what to do.

Minho’s mouth hangs open, sweet whines falling past his hips as he moans and warms of his impending orgasm. Jisung’s fingers work deftly, his cock filling him up just right, moaning lowly by Minho’s ear, and then he’s coming. It hits him hard, wave upon wave of pleasure wracking his body, causing him to arch his back beautifully and jolt in Jisung’s hold. It’s so wet all at once, making the sound of Jisung’s cock sliding in and out of him even more obscene. 

He leans up to kiss Jisung again, their soft lips moulding perfectly together, and then Jisung’s coming deep inside Minho with one final thrust. “Holy fucking shit, that was so-”

It hits him then, as he remembers that girl Jisung pulled up on his phone. She was incredibly pretty, and it makes Minho frown. He doesn’t know what to do, frozen in place, thoughts flooding his brain as he realises this whole setup would be getting in the way of both Jisung’s and his own relationships. 

Jisung seems to notice Minho’s stiffness too. He makes a noise and quirks an eyebrow, and Minho barely stutters out, “Your… You have a girlfriend, Hannie. And I- Sohee, and Hyemin-”

He stops in his tracks too, notices the way Minho’s eyes are welling up and the worry etched into his features now. It’s comical, ironic even, how Jisung is buried deep inside him and is touching the most intimate parts of Minho’s body and he says, “It doesn’t matter, Minho. Nothing matters. It’s just you and me. Don’t think about anything else, please?”

A tear escapes, rolling down the corner of Minho’s eye. “But, I-”

“Min,” Jisung says sternly. His face, however, is anything but angry. His eyes are wide with concern, and Minho thinks he looks so sweet like this. “Nothing matters, okay?”

Minho sighs shakily. “Okay, Hannie. Nothing matters.”

Jisung pulls out of him weakly, holding Minho tightly in his arms. Minho lets Jisung squeeze him tighter, chuckles to himself as he feels Jisung’s release trickle out of him, and lets himself sigh contentedly as Jisung holds him close.

Minho had hoped they would stop, for his sake, for Sohee’s and Hyemin’s sakes. For Jisung’s sake, and for his partner’s sake, Minho really, genuinely hoped they would stop. 

It wasn’t surprising that they didn’t. After the absolute bore of his work and home life, Minho took pleasure in playing with Jisung. It was less fighting and more sex, Jisung adding a light punch just for the fun of it if he felt like it. Minho looked forward to being with Jisung in their virtual world, waited eagerly for the moment Jisung could undress him in-game and ravish him properly. It was spontaneous and fun, with the added illegality behind it all -- it made Minho’s head spin, giddy with pleasure as he tapped out of  _ Striking Vipers _ with a sigh, Jisung already texting him to plan their next forbidden meetup. It made Minho feel young again, like he was reliving those ideal days of his with his best friend. 

Sohee had shown concern when she had caught Minho asleep on the couch instead of by her side in bed and chided him softly with a disappointed frown when he had woken up with a sore back. Minho merely waved her off as he cracked his back then disappeared into the bathroom to shower. 

Jisung was getting more experienced too, or at least was showing it off. The other night, Jisung had eaten him out, and it made Minho come so hard in-game that he had blown his load in person too. Minho didn’t know whether to tell Jisung this, given that his already-inflated ego didn’t need to be fuelled even more. He had decided to withhold that information from Jisung. 

A sharp buzz of his phone jolts him out of his thoughts. He blinks quickly and unlocks it, to see a text from Sohee.

_ “Got a babysitter for tonight” _ , it reads. 

_ “What for ????” _ , Minho responds, typing with adept fingers. 

He watches as the three dots flash, anticipating Sohee’s response. It disappears for a moment, then pops back up and flashes again for a bit. 

_ “It’s our anniversary.”,  _ Sohee says. She adds,  _ “You forgot?” _

Minho curses under his breath, leaving Sohee on read as he pulls up his chat with Jisung. 

He’s quick to type,  _ “Gotta cancel tonight. Anniversary with Sohee. Sorry xx” _

Before he can hit send, he stops himself, re-evaluating his text as he stares down at the kisses he was about to send. He deletes them quickly, hits send and sighs. He nibbles at his bottom lip as he finally decides not to respond to Sohee’s text, turning his phone off. What the fuck is wrong with him? Forgetting their anniversary, and seemingly having more affection for Jisung than his own wife? 

Minho sighs and buries his head in his hands. Maybe it’s not time to think about this, not when his desktop drones on lowly in front of him, white screen staring blankly back at him. Maybe later. 

Minho ends work a little late, drives a little too fast just to get to the restaurant Sohee had sent him the address for their dinner date, runs in and almost stumbles on his feet. Sohee looks at him curiously, smiling as he comes up next to her. She’s sitting at the bar, wearing a dark green dress that hugs her body tight and hugs the curves of her body. Minho wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her cheek. 

“Sorry, honey. Work ended late,” He explains, but Sohee merely shakes her head and gets someone to lead them to their table.

Dinner goes over quietly, Sohee asking Minho about work, eventually quieting down after Minho has a less than enthusiastic response. Their server comes over to check on them and clear their plates, announcing dessert will be served soon. He walks away hastily, sensing the thick tension swirling between the couple.

“Why is nothing the same anymore?” Sohee mumbles under her breath, but Minho definitely hears it. 

“What?” Minho asks. He doesn’t expect Sohee to respond with such frustration. 

“I’m lonely, Minho. Nothing’s the same between us anymore. It feels like you’re not really with me anymore,” Sohee sighs, slumping back in her seat, uncharacteristic of her usually poised self. 

The gears in Minho’s head turn as he tries to soothe his wife, but only comes up with, “I’m sorry, work’s been a lot. I’m always tired.” 

She sighs again. “I want some adventure, Minho,” She says, louder this time. “I want to feel wanted, like back in the old days.” 

Minho’s mouth gapes open and shut, at a loss for words. Sohee asserts, “I want to be able to  _ live a little _ . Our sex life isn’t the same anymore, either.”

“I love you,” Minho says weakly, he doesn’t know what he can say to make Sohee feel better. Sohee only hums, footsteps growing louder from behind her as the server brings over their creme brulee, with a curt “Enjoy.”

They don’t fix things over dinner, nor do they fix things on the car ride home. Sohee gives him the cold shoulder and Minho tries his hardest not to sigh, so as to not anger Sohee further. Hyemin is in bed by the time they get home. Sohee hands the babysitter a wad of notes and tells her to keep the change, mood already ruined from tonight. Minho chimes in a soft “Get home safe,” as the babysitter closes the door softly behind her. 

In their bedroom, while Minho undresses and Sohee takes off her makeup, the air is rife with awkward tension. 

“A man tried to buy me a drink earlier, before you got there,” Sohee says dismissively. 

Minho lets a strange feeling prickle at him, but says nothing as Sohee continues. “I wanted to say yes. I really did. But I didn’t, Minho. I love you so much, Minho, but I need  _ something. _ ”

“I don’t know what I can give you, Sohee,” Minho says, voice a little strained. “I’m sorry.” 

Sohee exits into the bathroom instead. Minho assumes she doesn’t want to talk anymore. Minho sits on the edge of the bed, feeling the mattress dip under him as he checks his phone. 

There are from Jisung, quite a few of them, asking if he was coming online, that they could “have some fun” if he did, and why Jisung was ignoring him. 

Irritation flares in Minho’s chest. His home life was crumbling beneath his feet, and Jisung had to bother him even though he had told him he was busy? Damn it, Jisung. If there was one thing Jisung was, he sure as hell was persistent. 

Minho shoots back a hasty “No, I’m busy”, but Jisung either doesn’t get the hint or chooses blatantly to ignore it. A litany of “Come on, Minnie”s are sent back, and Minho bounces his leg frustratedly. Sohee’s feet drag against the floor, unfitting for her usual demeanour. She slips underneath the covers, back facing Minho. He tries not to sigh audibly. 

His phone buzzes in quick spurts, signalling a phone call from none other than Jisung. Minho stares at it, as if he could will the call to end, but Jisung is always persistent. Stubborn, almost, to a fault.

Minho gets to his feet and shuffles out of the bedroom, walking toward the main living area instead of loitering around where Sohee could hear him.

“What, Jisung,” Minho says, frustration seeping into his voice.

Surprisingly, Jisung is oblivious to his tone. “Minnie, please play with me,” Jisung pleads, dragging out his vowels on the request. “It’ll be so good, I promise!”

“We can’t do this anymore,” Minho states firmly, despite how his voice wants to tremble. The weight on his chest of Sohee and his family is relieved, and Minho feels like he can finally breathe. If he gets Jisung out of his life in the way they interact so frequently, maybe, just maybe, Minho will be able to salvage his marriage, salvage the family he had worked so hard to build. 

However, it’s only to be replaced with the feeling of disappointing Jisung. The other man almost whimpers, sounding like a puppy that’s just been kicked. “What?”

Minho’s heart almost breaks. “I’m ending it, I have to. My family is at stake here, Jisung,” Minho says, words rushed, voice a stern whisper. 

“But, I- We had something good going on-” 

“Not anymore, Hannie. I’m done. Goodnight,” Minho says. For some reason, he waits for Jisung to respond. 

He doesn’t. 

The line cuts. 

+

“I invited Jisung over for dinner tomorrow,” Sohee says, when they’re climbing into bed for the night. Hyemin tucked safely into bed, Sohee herself struggles to get onto the mattress with the swell of her belly hindering her movements. 

Minho’s brows furrow. “What? Why?”

Sohee shrugs, settling into the pillows behind her. “I was just thinking about how you haven’t seen him in ages, since your birthday even. Wouldn’t you want to see him?” 

Just as Minho thought everything was going back to normal. He had shoved the headset into the back of a random cupboard that night, fighting down the rising ache in his throat and tears from forming in his eyes. Everything had gone back to normal, the same-old mundanity he had been used to for the past ten years or so. He didn’t know if pushing Jisung out of his life for the past six months was refreshing or not, but the thought of him coming to visit again was… upsetting, to say the least. 

He urges the anger bubbling in his gut to subside a little, knowing Sohee had no bad intentions. Laying down to rest, Minho knows there’s no way of convincing Sohee to cancel without telling her everything that had happened with Jisung. He doesn’t even want to think of how she would react if he did tell her. 

When Jisung shows up the next day, it’s awkward to say the least. Uncomfortable, Minho shifts on the balls of his feet as he lets Jisung into the house. Jisung hands over the bottle of red wine that he had brought along to Minho, nodding curtly before he enters the house. 

This was what Minho had feared, that everything would go back to being awkward and uncomfortable, just like it was when they had first reunited. Minho shoves the thoughts aside, assures himself that it’s better like this, for the both of them to be almost hostile toward each other so they don’t fall back to their old ways. 

Sohee comments briefly on how tense it is between the two men, but Minho laughs it off dismissively, Jisung seemingly ignoring it as he pushes his peas across the table with his fork like Hyemin does. Minho rests the urge to roll his eyes.

They finally finish their meals, Sohee clearing the plates and disappearing into the kitchen to prepare dessert. Minho stares at the decorative bowl of fruit in the middle of the round table, opting for that instead of looking at Jisung, or at his phone. After all, Minho is anything but rude, and using his phone at the dinner table just seems to be poor etiquette. 

He feels Jisung lean over toward him, his presence looming ever-closer, and Minho resists the urge to pull back. “I missed playing together, Minho,” Jisung says, nonchalantly resting his hand atop Minho’s. Minho pulls away venomously, uninterested in entertaining Jisung, almost repulsed by the implication. 

Jisung leans forward but pulls back, maintaining his composure. “I missed you. Nothing’s the same anymore.”

A shudder runs down Minho’s back as he thinks of how this conversation may very well parallel the one he had with Sohee. Jisung continues, “Nothing’s the same. It was only good with you, and  _ God, _ was it good. No one fucks me the same, Minho.”

Minho’s face sours at the way Jisung whispers the dirtiest part, and he feels like he’s being defiled just from listening to Jisung. The infidelity he had put behind him was coming back to haunt him in the form of his best friend, practically begging, but Minho couldn’t bring himself to look Jisung in the eye. 

“No one fucks me like you,” Jisung says exasperatedly, seemingly frustrated with himself more than Minho. “I fucked all these other players, and none of them made me feel as good as you do. I even fucked a polar bear, Minho.”

Minho cringes at the thought, the image of Tundra, the hulking polar bear avatar on the character select screen running through his mind briefly. He almost feels bile rising in his throat, the dinner he’d just stomached about to come back up.  _ That’s fucking disgusting _ , Minho thinks, but obviously he can’t say that aloud. He hopes the way he glares at Jisung sends the message home. 

“Please, Minho,” Jisung pleads helplessly, but he doesn’t budge, nor can he say anything else as Sohee loudly makes her way back to them, plates and forks clanking together as she brings them dessert. 

Even after Jisung leaves, the thought of him never leaves Minho’s mind. He doesn’t want to admit it but he misses Jisung, misses their playful banter, misses fucking around in-game. Yet, his eyes linger on Sohee and her pregnant figure. She’s carrying his unborn child, and yet Minho can only think about how well Jisung had fucked him. He’s repulsed, more with himself now than the incredulous act with Jisung.

For Sohee, for his family, he thinks, maybe he’ll entertain Jisung once more. He’ll entertain Jisung so he can finally get him out of his system, stop thinking about what he’s missing out on, so he can focus on the more important things in his life. 

_ Once more _ , Minho reminds himself a couple of nights later, shooting Jisung a quick message and turning the TV on, rummaging through the cupboard to finally wrap a hand around the unfamiliar box, small and sleek, sharp corners poking into his palm. He brings the game up as he sits on the couch, making himself comfortable. He makes sure to lower the brightness of the TV screen, not wanting to wake his wife or daughter this late into the night. 

A notification pops out from the corner of the screen to signify Jisung’s arrival. Then, another that invites Minho into the game. Minho exhales slowly, having picked up the console in his fingers. The plastic is smooth against his fingertips. He stares at the offensive little device, having brought him so much pleasure, but having been so close to destroying his family life. 

Minho sighs. Closing his eyes, he pops the console onto his temple and lets himself get sucked into the virtual world once more. 

Jisung had picked a dark alleyway this time, floor wet and air fresh with the smell of rain. Minho gets used to being in Meihua’s body once more, admiring her slender fingers and small frame, curves accentuated by the bastardised qipao the game developers had designed for her. Gross. 

The soft pit-pat of footsteps come up from behind him. Minho’s hands come up in a defensive stance instinctively, knowing full well it would be Jisung coming up to meet him. His hands fall to his side as Yeohwan stands in front of him. “Hi, Jisung.”

Yet, Minho can see Jisung in his character, his best friend in a completely different body. “Hey,” Jisung rumbles in Yeohwan’s low timbre. “I really missed you.”

Minho bites his tongue to hold himself back from responding in a similar fashion, knowing he shouldn’t, knowing he would have to give all this up all too soon, and that if he said anything else, neither of them might want to stop. Instead, he nods curtly. 

God, it feels so tense between them. He looks Jisung up and down, then Jisung’s kissing him all of a sudden. He kisses him hungrily, greedily almost, as if Minho were to be his last meal. Minho relents easily, melting into Jisung’s firm grip on his petite waist. Jisung silently urges Minho to wrap his legs around him, and Minho jumps up gracefully to hold onto Jisung tight, knowing he would catch him. Their lips never part, sloppy and messy with spit dripping down their chins. Minho thinks momentarily how disgusting it is, to make such a mess in a such a heated display of passion. He feels Jisung’s cock hardening against his soft thigh. It’s cute how quickly Jisung gets riled up. 

“Fuck me,” Minho says quickly, breathlessly, when they finally part for air. Jisung holds onto him securely and pushes him up against a wall before pressing their lips together again, Jisung’s tongue toying with his. 

Jisung latches his mouth onto Minho’s neck, sucking a hickey roughly into the milky skin. Minho winces with the pain, but feels himself getting a little lightheaded at the fact that Jisung seems to want to mark him up so badly. He can’t do much in his position other than push his heels into Jisung’s lower half so he’s pressed up against him, letting Jisung rut his clothed erection all over Minho’s thigh. 

Jisung’s maneuvered them somehow, sliding his cock easily past Minho’s underwear and into his wet heat, slick and obscene-sounding with every thrust. The stone wall is rough against Minho’s back, a dull ache in his lower half as Jisung’s thrusts push him back into a raised edge in the wall. It doesn’t matter though, because it adds to the experience he’ll never get to feel again. 

The odd pleasure blooming in the pit of his gut and the pain he feels make it so much more real, ironic given how the only thing real about their situation… is them. Them, and how good Minho feels, and how good Jisung must feel fucking deep into him. Minho’s mind wants to drift, eyes rolling into the back of his head while letting the pleasure take over all his senses, but he knows that he has to savour all of it now. He lets Jisung fuck him, tightening around him to make Jisung moan, letting out little whimpers himself. He snakes a hand down his bottoms, feels around for his clit and rubs carelessly, insistently. His pants grow louder and so do Jisung’s grunts, both reaching their climaxes all too soon. Minho’s gut curls with arousal, overwhelmed with all his nerve endings on fire, on the brink of his orgasm. 

Minho hooks his chin on Jisung’s shoulder, lip trapped between his teeth and eyes squeezed shut as he finally comes, drenching Jisung’s cock in his fluids. Minho rubs at his clit, still feeling a little floaty, while Jisung still pounds hard into him, chasing his own orgasm. 

Jisung’s hips slap roughly against Minho’s bottom, coming deep inside him with a couple more thrusts and a hurried “I love you-!”

Minho’s eyes widen, and he pushes Jisung off of him, catching himself on his feet with catlike grace. The three words Minho had dreaded to hear, finally muttered under Jisung’s breath. Even with Jisung’s cum seeping out of him, Minho sinks to the floor, blinking quickly. “No. No, you don’t. You don’t love me.”

Jisung himself startles too. “It feels like I do, though. I love you,” He says, crumbling to the floor on his knees in front of Minho. He holds Minho’s face softly. “I love you.”

“You don’t!” Minho cries out, helplessness clawing at his chest, a sinking feeling of guilt in his stomach. “You don’t love me, Han Jisung. You love the sex, that’s all. We both know we’re not in love with each other!”

A resolute look takes over Jisung’s face. “Can we at least… make sure? I want to know, Minnie. If I’m really in love with you or not.” 

Minho stares at him quizzically. Jisung explains, without explaining much at all, “Let’s meet up now. In real life. And talk about it.”

Minho somehow agrees to Jisung’s ridiculous request. They both blip out of the virtual world.

His phone buzzes loudly on the table, Jisung having texted him an address to meet at. It’s strange, a midnight rendezvous for him and his best friend to see if they’re gay for each other. Minho glances at the clock. Midnight. Hopefully Sohee wouldn’t know he was gone for too long. He grabs his car keys, and makes sure to close the door silently behind him.

As he steps out of his car, noticing they’re at their old haunt -- at the back of the now-abandoned club, it hits him even harder just how odd their meeting is. Minho isn’t even dressed up for this, in a ratty, grey t-shirt and sweatpants, feet hastily shoved into a pair of slides. This would not be romantic in the slightest, even if it ended up being that way. He sincerely hopes it won’t. 

Jisung walks up to him, a little uncertainty in his stride. He looks tired, hair messy and shirt tucked awkwardly into his own sweats, eye-bags prominent and heavy. Paralleling their stances in-game, they circle around, hesitating with their movements, unsure of what the other will do next. Minho takes the offensive, stepping up closer to Jisung. “So, uh-”

“Can I kiss you? And we can see what to do from there?” Jisung blurts, bracing himself for an unfavourable reaction from Minho. However, Minho finds himself nodding, letting Jisung step closer to him. 

The smaller man holds Minho’s face in his hands, a little rougher than he had been just minutes ago in the game. Completely off-guard, he presses his lips to Minho’s. 

And he feels… nothing. Not at all. Jisung’s lips are rough on his, but there’s no spark, no ignited flame of passion in his chest, nothing. Jisung makes a noise of confusion in his throat too, and moves away from Minho. 

“Nothing?” Jisung asks, a little hopelessly. Minho just shakes his head. “Me neither.” 

“That’s good, isn’t it? We don’t have to worry about that, then.” Minho pulls Jisung into a tight hug, reassured that nothing has to change between them, that everything could go back to normal. 

“Yeah,” Jisung says, when they part. “But, it’s different in the game, y’know? Can’t we have that?”

Minho stumbles, appalled. “No!” He spits repulsively, pushing Jisung away. “Get that shit out of your head, man! That’s fucked up!” 

“Don’t fucking push me!” Jisung yells, charging toward Minho. Minho swings, and his fist meets Jisung’s jaw squarely. It sends Jisung tumbling back against the gravel. Minho pants angrily, chest heaving to catch his breath. Jisung wipes at his mouth, regaining his footing. He stands back up, in a defensive position with his arms at the ready. “Don’t call me fucked up, not when you liked it too, Lee Minho!”

“Fuck you,” Minho spits, cut off as Jisung tackles him to the floor. He lands a punch to his jaw, then his nose, and Minho immediately feels the wet trickle of blood from his nostrils. It’s hard to breathe now, but he braces himself and does his best to block any incoming blows from Jisung. 

He sees the red and blue lights flashing up against the walls. It’s begun to pour, and police officers rush over to tear Jisung off of him. Jisung’s so different, horrendously angry, baring his teeth aggressively at him, almost animalistic. Jisung gets pulled into the cop car after being handcuffed. Minho wipes at the blood flowing freely from his nose, the dark red substance smeared on the back of his hand. A cop cuffs him too, and drags him into another car. 

  
  


Sohee arrives at the holding centre an hour or so later, after both men had given their statements, contact information and the like. Sohee is furious, evident on her face and especially from the way she had to be rudely awoken at two in the morning. Sohee thanks the officers less than politely, not even bothering to acknowledge a bruised Jisung in the holding cell. They get into the car, Minho stares into his lap, waiting to be berated by his wife and not wanting to look her in the eye while she does it. She sighs loudly, not having said anything yet. 

“What the fuck, Lee Minho? Going out this late in the night just to beat up Jisung? What for? Why were you even fighting?” Sohee questions, rapid-fire and utterly confused. Minho doesn’t even know where to begin. He feels some dried blood still sitting uncomfortably on his lower lip, some stuff that hadn’t been cleaned off. It would be too uncomfortable, impossible even, to explain what the hell him and Jisung were up to. 

Sohee starts the car, shaking her head disappointedly with Minho’s lack of response. The tension swirls in the car, seeming to fill Minho’s lungs with thick, choking gas that threatens to knock him out cold. He doesn’t know what to say. 

“You better have a good explanation for this, Minho,” Sohee grumbles, stepping on the accelerator as she gets onto the main road. 

Minho doesn’t know what to tell her either. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on [nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/PUPSEUNGMlN)


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